The Battle of Boris
by kickoutthejams
Summary: This would be my first fic. Please Review! Chapter NINE IS UP! WOOT! A corsair by the name of Boris the Bloke has come to conquer the peaceful Abbey of Redwall.
1. Scuttled

  
I don't own any of Mr. Jacques characters, or his Abbey, or his country of Mossflower, or.....Uh..yeah. I don't own the book series, is what I'm trying to say. This is a fic of appreciation! Enjoy!  
  
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The Abbey sat peacefully, the bright sun warming the ancient red stone walls. It was summer, and colorful flowers bloomed in the orchard, and in the wild Mossflower Woods.  
However, on the beach, miles away from the Abbey, to the east, was a massive Galleon, called the Dire Eclipse crewed by pirates and corsairs. Boris the Bloke stood on the prow of the ship, staring at the mass of land ahead. He was a weasel, a tall, quiet one. He actually possessed etiquette and manners, but he was a ruthless killer. Boris was called 'the Bloke' by his followers as a joke. He wore a long patched trench coat that he made himself, along with a top hat to match. His large boots scuffed the hardwood deck, and dark brown eyes glanced to his crew. Boris was an ace shot with his crossbow pistols, and for close quarters, he carried a broad bladed cutlass. A searat approached him and saluted with a dagger. He was the first mate, Wymheist. He was about to speak when the ship suddenly shook and trembled. A loud scraping noise was followed by a crewbeast screaming. We hit a pile o spiky rocks n reef! The ships got a hole in the rudder! Were sinkin'! With that, the frightened crew ran to the bottom of the galleon and bailed with anything that came to paw. Boris yelled. Save your energy, mates! Overboard! Swim for the shore!   
  
The hole in the bottom of the ship began to splinter and gave way to the torrent of water. The crew scrambled to get away, but many were trampled by their companions, and ended up drowning. The remaining pirates sat on the beach with Boris, cursing and swearing as they saw the Dire Eclipse sink. Wymheist spat out sand and stabbed his dagger into the soft sandy ground. Scuttled, now what'll we do? The crew's morale was bad, and Boris knew it. Let's go into the woodlands. We may find vittles and suchlike in there. The ragged remains of the crew slumped off into the woods, Boris leading the way. After a day of traveling, they came saw a huge Redstone building, many seasons old. Boris let out a low whistle. There must be more than a few shiploads of treasure in that building... The crew was thinking the same thing. Boris turned to them and grinned. What do you say mateys, do you want to plunder it? The crew nodded eagerly, drawing weapons. Pikes, cutlasses, daggers, axes and hooks were waved as they saluted. The Abbey had no idea of the murderous crew, but they would find out about them soon.   
  
The pirates turned and marched away from the abbey, until they came upon a large field. The immidatly set up camp. "Catclaw, go and take some of your mates to get some rations. Burnnose, come here." Boris ordered imperiosly. A small-ish rat came hurrying over to the weasel captain. "What do yeh need, cap'n?" He asked in a squeaky voice. "Go get me something decent to eat. Don't take any longer than an hour, and let none in the abbey see anything that will mark your presense, or else!" Boris's paw strayed to the cutlass at his side. Burnnose grabbed his bow and arrows with all speed, and shot out of the camp as if fired from a cannon.  
  



	2. Woodpigeons

Okay, Like I said last time, I don't own any of Mr. Jacques characters or Mossflower and it's inhabitants. This is chapter two.....BEWARE! Muhahahahaha!!  
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Daniel was a strong mouse, and a brother of Redwall. His dark brown fur was thick, and he had golden pupils. He was much admired by the Dibbuns of the Abbey, because of his friendly nature, and how he would always help them with their problems. Daniel served as the Recorder's assistant. He dashed along the walls in his daily exercises, and stopped halfway along the southern wall for a breather. Something odd was happening in the woods. It was a bright and cheerful summer day, and yet he heard no birds singing, nor grasshoppers and crickets chirping in Mossflower Woods. Pondering this, Daniel continued jogging round. He thought he saw something from the corner of his eye, but saw nothing when he turned to look. { My eyes must be playing tricks on me.} Daniel thought. Then he heard a loud squawking noise, and saw a single fat wood pigeon fly from the edge of the woods, followed by a curse. When Daniel looked closer, he was surprised to see a small arrow sticking out of the ground. Immediately, he ran to tell the Abbot.  
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Burnnose the rat cursed under his breath. He should have known better than to hunt so close to the Abbey. But a large fat wood pigeon was to good a meal to give up, for many of the foragers had managed to find only roots and berries. He nocked another arrow into the bow and prowled away from the Abbey. Burnnose didn't dare go back to retrieve the arrow. It was way to risky, plus that mouse had been up there. The rat was small, and didn't fancy hand to hand combat. He was a sniper, but today something was bothering him, a sense of foreboding about the idea of taking over the large Redstone Abbey. However, nobody stood up to Boris when it came to plundering. If you defied him, you were slain. If you failed, beatings were to follow. Boris had heard many tales about the Abbey's past, and how Warlords had tried to take it with forces that outnumbered Boris's pirates by hundreds, had failed miserably. But Boris was clever, and he never made an attack, or announced himself with a show of force. He was playing it safe, until the time was ripe...  
  
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Hmm....More suspense, I suppose. Next chapter will be up in a couple of days. See you later...  
Kickoutthejams.


	3. A Bloke among Blokes

Okay, here we are again. As I have said in the last two chapters, and will say for the rest of my very long story, I DON'T OWN REDWALL!!!!!!  
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Boris The Bloke sat by his own campfire, thinking of a plan. He had been disappointed by the meager bits and pieces of actually edible food that the foragers had found, but Boris had sent them back out. His agile mind raced through possibilities of what he could do. With a deft movement, he drew his cutlass. The movement caused the pirates nearest to him to flinch, but he just smiled his carefree smile at them and began to doodle in the soft earth. Suddenly, a plan struck him like a lightning bolt. Why attack when he could be a needle in a haystack? The Abbey dwellers may let him in. He didn't look like a pirate, (In his opinion, anyway.) so they may allow him to stay. Then he could really plan an attack. Rising swiftly, he strode to a log near the edge of the camp and hacked it three times with the cutlass. The vermin turned to look at him. I have come up with an idea that will enable us to take the Abbey over yonder, the Bloke began, with a wave of the sword. This will require precision and tactics. I won't have any mistakes, is that clear? There were nods and some ayes'. I will go into the Abbey as a wanderer. I plan to stay in there for a couple days. While I am there, I will be charting everything I can so that we can get an idea of where everything is and how to take it. Whilst I am gone, you will take orders from Wymheist. Here are my orders: Don't let anyone see you, but I want scouts to go out and look for any roving bands of vermin. Perhaps we can include them into our force. Boris said. The group for vermin nodded again. Good. Wymheist, come here. The rat hurried to obey. Make sure that their moral is good. Only use force on my fighters if neccesary, otherwise, encourage them. I want to see a good fighting force upon my return. Wymheist saluted smartly and whispered. You kin count on me, Cap'n. I'll see that us'ns got a good army o' fightas. Boris grabbed his top hat, his weapons, and set off into the woodlands.  
  
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Daniel was sitting in Cavern Hole, reporting what he saw from the wall. The Abbot was concerned, but not worried all that much. However, they still needed precautions. Did you recover the arrow, Daniel? No, Father Abbot. I came to report to you first. The Abbot smiled at the young mouse. You are a true brother of Redwall, Daniel. Please inform the other Brothers and Sisters to keep an eye on the Dibbuns. If there are vermin out there, than we must be extra careful.


	4. Frantic an' frazzled

Okay, here we are at chapter four, and I thank those of you who have sent reviews to me, for I have just started. I will try to incorporate all of your help into this story, for I shall edit it later. Of course, I must add the Disclaimer thing about how I don't own the Redwall Series and all. Enough of my ramblings, the story must continue! { } = thought --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Boris continued through the woods, away from the camp. His keen eyesight had ajusted to the gloom of the forest. Stopping for a moment in a small clearing, he began to think. The Abbey was not too far from his current position. Movement caught his eye from a nearby hedge. Silently, like a shadow, the weasel crept towards the trembling bush while drawing his two crossbow pistols. They were already loaded, and he aimed carefully. There was a loud hiss, and Boris backed away fearfully, his eyes shifting this way and that. The sound seemed to eminate not only from the bush, but from all over the entire clearing. A large adder came slithering out of the hedge, it's toungue flickering as it stared at him through dimmed eyes. Long scars covered it's entire head. { It's blind. } the very thought shot through the Bloke's mind, and he immidiatly decided to put the thing out of it's Ômisery'. He sighted, and fired. The arrows sunk deep into the creature's head. It made a snarling noise, then hissed even louder, and a score of smaller adders came out of the bushes, winding a sinister trail towards the frightened weasel. He abandoned his two pistols and drew his broad bladed cutlass. One of the smaller adders got too close and lost it's head with a single sweep from the curved blade. " Give up," One of the small adders murmured. Boris swept out with the sword again, chopping one in half, and slashing another's head. Blood spattered the ground. The blind adder, whom all this time had been tasting the air to find it's prey, struck as suddenly as lightning.Thankfully for Boris, it had miscalculated it's strike and flew past Boris, and smashed into an oak trunk. The big reptile thrashed about angrily, knocking Boris flying with a heavy blow from it's scaled end. His sword left his paws and soared into the hedges. The remaining adders began to close in on the stunned weasel, toungues flickering. Boris's paws searched for something, anything, to use for a weapon. His paws felt nothing but grass. The blind adder moved towards the frazzled pirate. If it lunged now, there was no chance that it would miss. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hmm...Sorry if the chapter is short, but I'm trying to make them a bit longer, somehow. 


	5. A sod of dirt

Things are looking a bit grim for Boris, aren't they? Well, find out what happens to the poor bloke in this chapter! Here we go! { } = thought. Oh, I almost forgot, I don't own the Redwall series and all that stuff. But something interesting is about to happen, mark my words.  
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Boris's eyes rolled wildly with fright. However, for the first time, the weasel had noticed a large bees nest hanging on a branch directly over the blind snakes head. His cunning allowed him to come up with a plan. He seized a sod of earth and rock. With all of the strength Boris could muster, the frightened weasel hurled the clump of dirt at the bee hive._ THWACK!!! _ The fragile nest came tumbling down to the ground below like a bomb. It struck the adder in the center of it's head with such a force that, not only was the adder knocked flat, but shattered the nest. Pieces of honeycomb and dirt flew around the small clearing like bits of shrapnel. Then, the bees came out.  
  
Thousands of the enraged insects attacked the adder. Boris galvanized himself into action. He dashed past the helpless snake, and retrieved his weapons. The smaller adders were too shocked to do anything, save watch their leader get killed by swarms of bees. Boris fled from the scene, holding his top hat like a shield.  
  
Boris did not know how far, or long he had run, but his feet felt like lead. Slowly the worn out weasel came to a halt and leaned against an old elm tree. This time, he was very wary and frightened. He grabbed the two crossbow pistols and loaded them. He closed his eyes and slept.  
  
He had a dream. Boris was on the prow of his old ship, _Dire Eclipse_. Behind him was his crew, swigging grog heartily, singing and dancing. A beautiful sword was in his hand. It was double edged, with a red stone in the pommel. It glittered brightly in the tropical sun. However, storm clouds came and a mouse appeared. He wore an entire suit of battle armor. The mouse lifted the visor, a frown upon his face. He seemed to float towards the ship, like a phantom. An armored paw was outstretched, and the warrior mouse said. Overcome your greed, and you shall be at peace. With that being said, he grabbed the sword away from Boris and floated off.  
  
The weasel awoke with a start. With out a seconds hesitation, Boris leapt up, sheathed his weapons, and sped off towards the abbey. He could see it dimly through the trees. Smiling to himself, he slowed down, so as not to look suspicious. Now was the time for the plan to start.  
  
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Daniel was sitting on the wall top, eating a leisurely breakfast of beechnut scones and fresh greensap milk. After he finished, he stood to go help with the chores when a weasel came strolling out of the woods. The weasel wore a patched trenchcoat and top hat to match. Daniel had read about many weasels who were evil. This one was knocking on the front gates. He could not take chances. Quickly, the mouse ran down the steps and onto the Abbey grounds.   
  
The Abbot was sitting near the pond, thinking about going fishing when Daniel came running over to him. Father Abbot, a weasel is here. What should we do? the older mouse looked thoughtful. I suppose we should go out to greet him. Please go an get Burro and Sister Maria. Daniel nodded and left to do his task. As the Abbot walked near the gatehouse, a formal sounding tone of voice could be heard calling, Excuse me, is anybody home? The Abbot raised his voice to make sure that the weasel could hear him. Greetings! Thank you for your patience. The old mouse opened the door to let in Boris.  
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Okay, this might be a short one, but I hope you liked it. The next chapter will be up in a day or two. Looks like Boris got just what he wanted, eh? -kickoutthejams


	6. Operation Haystack

Okay, chapter six is now up. I think this may be a bit long, but It may not. I don't own Redwall. On with the story.  
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Boris was fascinated at the Redstone building. it was much more impressive when you were closer up. He looked around, seeing the orchard and abbey pond. Truly this was a place of plenty. Boris also mentally noted the behavior of the wood landers. They seemed to have no trained fighters, and the only one that remotely seemed to show a bit of warrior strength was Daniel. The mouse made Boris a bit nervous. Daniel reminded him of the warrior mouse in his dream.   
  
The crafty weasel was led into the main Abbey building, but was halted by three strong otters. They looked a little weary, as if they had been traveling. A huge female badger came shambling over to the abbot and smiled. Ah, Abbot Garth, how's life, you old fogey? The Abbot smiled. Oh, I suppose it's been as good as can be expected, Sylvia. When did you get here? The badger patted Abbot Garth on the head lightly. Oh, no more than a couple of minutes ago. I snuck through the east wicker gate, with Skipper. Her voice dropped to a whisper. We saw a few vermin. It appeared that they were searching for something. One of the otters, bigger than the others, pointed to Boris. Wot's e doing here? I saw him with With a nod, the other two otters frisked Boris and produced the blood soaked cutlass and his two crossbow pistols. Looks like he's armed. Boris adopted a slightly indignant voice. What's wrong with carrying protection? I need to defend myself too, y'know!  
  
A quick whispered conversation was held between the Abbot, Sylvia, and Skipper. Finally, they agreed to let him stay, though Skipper was highly reluctant. Boris swept off his hat and bowed. Thank ye for your hospitality, sirs and miss. Skipper just nodded curtly and walked away,but the Abbot smiled at Boris as if smiling at a favored son before saying cheerfully. You must be very hungry. Do you want a late breakfast? The weasel smiled and shrugged. If it's not too much trouble, Lord Abbot.  
  
Boris sat on the floor of Cavern hole, sipping strawberry cordial daintily. He took in all of his surroundings. Decisively, he stood and walked to an old squirrel,who was the recorder of Mossflower. Excuse me, sir, but do you have any spare parchment an' quills an' ink? The squirrel, known as Treetail, shrugged. I think so. Follow me. The two creatures exited the cavernous area and strode to the main abbey door.  
  
The gate house was very untidy. Dust and scrolls littered the floor like autumn leaves. Boris was lucky; he managed to get through the trap without spilling the ink he was carrying, or tripping and dropping the parchment. Feeling fairly relieved once he was out of the enclosed space, Boris set about his work. The sly beast began to draw what he thought a birds eye view would be like. The Great Hall was the easiest, drawing the staircases and dormitories were hard, but none harder than trying to draw the infirmary. It took Boris several hours to map the room. As he left, staring at the scrolls, he bumped into somebeast. It was the otter known as Skipper! Skipper stared at Boris, and said in a forced calm voice. Wot've ye got there? He peered closely at the parchment. Boris knew that if he tried to stop him, then Skipper would definitly know that something was up. He allowed the suspicicous otter a look. Skiper asked the question that Boris had been expecting. Why are ye drawing the Abbey? His eyes slitted dangerously. I like the architecture. It is very intricate in design. I just wanted to have a bit of fun.. Boris lied easily. Skipper stared hard at him for a moment before turning on his paw and striding away. {That was close.} Boris thought, inwardly shaken. Then, like a shadow, he slipped away.  
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Okay, this chapter is over. Next one: The Needle Within. See ya!-kickoutthejams


	7. The Needle within

Okay, here we are. I thought it was time for a change of scenery. Anyhow, I don't own Redwall.  
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The camp of Boris had been very successful. They had found many vermin bands lurking in the woods, and had accumulated over nine hundred extra soldiers to their two score and a half. The army of marauders sat about the expansive territory, eating, sleeping, and gambling. Wymheist, Boris's trusty new officer was watching the vermin for the slightest stirring of rebellion. He had appointed several of his own minions to help him out. The vermin soldiers called these keepers of the peace' several colorful derogatory terms. Those who were caught red handed were punished severely.   
  
Catclaw and Burnnose sat around their own fire, chewing on fruit that Catclaw had managed to find. The weasel commented dryly to his rat companion. Wonder wot ole Boris is up to. Burnnose spat a apple seed into the flames. Most likely scopin' things out while eatin' the best vittles. Catclaw nodded agreement. A burly stoat named Zite joined them. He apparently had been eavesdropping. Aye. I knows e is. I saw him when I wuz lookin' fer food. He was sittin' on the wall top, drinking' from a mug, an' talking to hisself. Something about wine. Burnnose began to complain. Why should e get all the best vittles while we're left grubbing around for fruit? It's not fair! Zite agreed with him, and even voiced an insult. Yah, that bilge wallower, It's not right! Catclaw disagreed, but didn't say anything. Instead, he left them to their ranting and scooted away to a different fire. He had glanced at Wymheist and noticed that the grizzly rat had been watching them.  
  
Wymheist stood up decisively, and walked over two the pair of would-be rebels. He was getting very bored, and wanted to fight. Wymheist was cruel by nature, and enjoyed killing things. So, getting ready to rebel or summat, eh? He drew his dagger and prodded Burnnose in the belly. Well, If'n I hear youse two complain' about wot Boris is doin', I'll kill yer both! In truth, Wymheist couldn't care less for his captain, but Boris had never lead them astray but once, when they lost _Dire Eclipse_. If Boris had a plan to take an Abbey that large, then Wymheist would obey.  
  
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Boris was ready to take his leave of the Abbey. The cheery manner of the wood landers was driving him spare, and Not only that, the otter leader had almost caught him red handed with his evil plot. It was too risky to stay, even though Boris had charted only half of the Abbey. The mouse Daniel also was risky to be near. The crafty weasel sat staring at his small cot and grabbed his coat and hat. He needed to find his weapons, but had no idea where they were being held. If he asked, then the Abbey dwellers might figure him out. They were not fools to be taken lightly. If Boris had to leave his weapons, then so be it. With a few quick decisions, the corsair captain shot out of the Dormitories and ran across the grounds to the east wicker gate. He had just unlatched the two locks when three shadows fell across him. Where do you think you're off to? Asked Skipper. The otter was accompanied by Sylvia the badger. Boris was rendered speechless. How did they know where he was, and snuck up on him so easily. I..Was going for a walk... He muttered sulkily. Oh. In that case, we'll come with you. Daniel said, an ash staff in his paws. Boris eyed the weapon warily. What's that for? Oh, there are pirates and vermin abroad in Mossflower. This is for protection. Boris mentally cursed. If he tried to go back to the camp, then the three wood landers would slay him immediately. Boris looked around furtively, then pointed and shouted suddenly. Look, a pirate is scaling the west wall! As the three companions turned, Boris dashed off into the woods. Skipper whipped round and grabbed a javelin on his back. I'll get him.. He growled, and reared back to throw at the retreating figure.  
So, what do you think? I won't be able to update for a while, so just hang on a bit. Next chapter will be long, I promise! -kickoutthejams  
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	8. Coming for the kill

Sorry for the dely...personal matters have driven me from my story making. It took me a while to get over it, but anyway, I don't own redwall, nor it's inhabitants. On with chapter 8!  
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Boris ran as fast as he could, trying to get away from the ottor toting the javelin. He looked over his shoulder, and leapt behind a bush. Not a moment to soon nor late; the javelin took off his top hat and pinned it to a tree. Boris scrambled up and grabbed the hat, along with the still quivering throwing weapon. Skipper was chanrging full on, along with Sylvia and Daniel. Unluckily for them, Boris was already nimble, and had a good four and a half score of meters distance between them.  
  
As the desparate weasel dashed away crazily, he wondered how long it would take for them to catch up with him. Leaping over logs, zigzagging around trees, and ducking under low hanging branches, Boris soon felt his stamina draining. But he persisted, and soon heard distant laughter and raucious loud voices. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, he saw that his angry persuers had stopped chasing him.  
  
Boris strode briskly into camp, trying to look regal, but it was hard with a javelin sticking out of your hat, and your fur was ruffled and leves covered your head like a wig.With a brush of his paw, Boris swept off the offending leaves and scanned the vermin sitting around their campfires.   
  
Wymheist saw his camptain approach and slashed a fire with a log. Sparks flew, and sprayed over more than a few vermin. The entire mob grew silent, and stared at Wymheist. Boris climbed onto a large fallen log and whipped out the javelin. His voice rang out across the field. Attention!!! The time, our time, has come! We will conquer the peaceful abbey over yonder, and take all we can! Give them no mercy! None! Boris stopped his speech so that the vermin could begin to work themselves into a frenzy. Kill them all! However....If anyone disobeys my orders, or flees will be slain, and I will make sure of that! We attack tonight! With that being said, the weasel hopped off the long and approached Wymheist. How many disobeyed?   
  
Only a couple...Not many, cap'n. Wymheist whispered back. Boris grinned, and walked into a tent that had been raised when they had first arrived. It was the war tent, and only officers were allowed inside. Boris pulled out the maps he had created and laid them out over the table. Here, get the new recruited officers and get them over here. I have plans for them.   
  
Withing minutes, three vermin walked into the tent. two ferrets, and a fox. So, lads, what are your names, eh? Me names be'sThargan. One of the ferrets informed him. The fox introduced himself as Zylad. and the secound ferret called himself Bardol.   
  
Well, me lucky mates, Here are the plans. Zylad, take three score soldiers of your choice and storm this little gate on the eastern area. Thargan, I want you to lead the main charge. Pick out six score vermin and storm the gate. Wymheist, go with him with your own few. Bardol, Attack from behind with a couple scores. I trust we have grapnels?  
  
Yisser, we made a few ooks when youse was out. Zylad piped up. He pawed anxiosly at a wicked looking scythe. Were ready!  
  
Good. I'll try to sneak in a small infiltration force while you guys are killen' them. This way, we can take over from the inside-out. Any questions? Boris asked cheerfully. There were none, and the vermin officers smiled at Boris's brilliant plan. Outside, the restless weasels, stoats, rats, foxes, ferrets grabbed weapons, quenched smouldering fires, and prepared grappling hooks. Night was only a few hours away.  
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Anyhow, there is chapter eight. Nine will be up tomorrow, or the day after, I hope. See you later, mates! -kickoutthejams


	9. Charge, ye fools!

Hahaharrr! I have returned! I know it's been about a year, mebbe more, mebbe less. Anyways, sorry to keep you waiting! As said in the last eight chapters, I don't own Redwall, Mossflower Country, or none of that except for me own made up characters. On with the yarn!  
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During the few short hours before the vermin horde arrived, Daniel, Skipper, and Sylvia had warned the Abbey of a supposed threat. However, by now, the Redwallers had gotton accustomed to the news of some vermin hanging around in the woods, so they weren't all that suprised. Of course, precautions had to be made. Skipper posted his crew on the battlements and walltops to keep a lookout, just in case. It was going to be a while before they could all rest easy again.  
  
The horde of vermin marched forth, eventually splitting off to follow their commander's orders. No torches were lit, nobeast spoke. A nod or a point was all the communication they needed. Boris had re-outfitted himself with leftover weapons, and now carried and oversized cutlass and a couple of daggers. The abbey was virtually silent. In their beds, Dibbuns and tired Brothers and Sisters slept, blissfully unaware of the force preparing to attack. Most of Skipper's crew were unaware of the enemies' presence, and probably never would. It's hard to do that with a few barbed shafts sticking out of your head.  
  
Thargan patted his longbow happily and signalled to the rest of his archers to advance. Since most of the guards were gone, this operation would probably go without a hitch...Or so he thought.  
  
Of course, trying to use a swarm of vermin that have never been in military service before has it's hitches. For one thing, some of the troops got confused and started to wander off until one of the captains grabbed him or her and shoved them violently back into rank. Some arguments broke out, and a brawl between a beligerent horderat and a ferret captain ensued. It only quieted down when both were knocked unconscious and chucked into a ditch.  
  
Daniel was awake, pacing restlessly, brooding about Boris. He wandered down staircases, through Great Hall, around Cavern Hole, and finally back up to the dormitories, when he happened to look out the window to see several vermin clambering onto the walltop....  
  
Skipper gasped in shock as he turned the corner of the battlements and saw his fallen comrades. In sheer anger, he roared and threw his javelin in a random direction off the walltop. He unwittingly slew one of the hordebeasts, who went down with a wail. A shout could be heard Hold your postitions, for Boris's sake! Shuttup! Skipper dashed off, yelling ATTACK! We're under attack!  
  
Boris muttered curses under his breath as he struggled up the rope onto the wall. He hadn't thought it would've been so difficult to climp up thye wall, but it was. He knew the horde was getting more and more restless, so as soon as he had managed to leapt onto the sandstone walltop, he gave the signal to Wymheist, whom was waiting patiently by the front gate. War horns suddenly blasted out as vermin charged, roaring and screeching.


	10. The Fall

Chapter 10 is here. The big, big big, battle. Of course, the Abbeybeasts must've gotton slow in their soft living and many, many seasons of no war...But whatever. This'll be my favorite part to write! Hurrah! I love battle scenes! As before, I don't own Mossflower, it's inhabitants, or any Redwall copyrighted stuff. Or any Redwall stuff at all, actually.  
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Skipper shattered a javelin over a weasel's head, and flung the remainder into a rat's neck. He grabbed a fallen cutlass and went slashing at vermin heads that popped up on the ladders. How had the vermin snuck up on them so easily? He mulled over this as he slit the throat of another horde soldier, who fell from the heavy ladder with a bloody gurgle. The remaining otter crew put up quite a fight, although they were outnumbered by more than seven to one. Daniel ran around on the wall, using a makeshift spear made from a staff with a knife tied to the top. He slashed a grapnel rope, wincing as he heard the vermin fall to theiur doom with sickening wails. However, battle rage had filled the young mouse's veins, and he ignored their screams as he continued to stab and slash.  
  
Brothers and Sisters could tell that the battle was going against them. There was nothing else they could do but help the fighters on the walltops. The mice had no skills in war, but they would give up their lives to save their abbey. Anything that came to paw was used; knived, staves, brooms, torches, shovels and mallets were seized and brandished as the mobs of mive came charging out, running up the stairs to the walltop.  
  
Boris didn't car about what was going on along the wall. He was about to sneak in the abbey. He just had to wait until all of the mice had gotton out of the door. Then he would seize his chance. The weasel didn't have to wait long. The threshold was deserted as just about all of the abbeybeasts (excluding Dibbuns, of course.) fought along the walltop. Smiling, the crafty animal snuck inside with his small band. A new plan was formulating in his mind. There had to be some young creatures in here who couldn't fight. "SPlit up, look for young beasts. When I say young, I mean babbies. If you find any, come back to the great hall and tell me where they are."  
  
Daniel impaled a rat on his spear, kicking him off over the edge. The blood of Brothers and Sisters mingled with that of the Otters and hordebeasts. The walltop's stones were slippery. The night was heady and had an air of opression. He wondered what compelled creatures to cause such death. "Skipper! We can't hold 'em for long! There's too many!We've got to find a safer defense area!!!" He called to the otter chieftan.Skipper wasn't listening. He was busy strangling Wymheist to death. He hurled the limp Captain into a ladder, knocking the seige weapon and it's load of vermin to oblivion. It looked as if to him that the tide may yet be turned, for the Brothers and Sisters of Redwall were making good accounts of themselves.  
  
Boris did a small dance of joy. He didn't mind that much of his forces had been decimated on the walltops. He was happy because he'd found a way to win this battle without loss of another hordebeast. His small squad had found all of the Dibbuns, who were hiding in the dormitories. Boris had memorized the map he had made so thoroughly that he had no trouple getting to the higest ppoint inside of the Abbey. Seizing a small, sobbing squirrel by the tail, he dragged her to the window and held her aloft, roaring. "Throw down your weapons, Abbeybeasts, or the little beast'll fall to 'er death!" To his dissapointment, he could barely be heard over the noises of fighting, and he nearly blew out his lungs by screaming and waving the infant around like a doll. Eventually, the fighting ceased and everyone was watching him. "Abbeybeasts! Hearken to me! I command your pitiful remaining forces to leave this place now! You may take these squabbling brats and some food with you.. I won't take you as slaves, because then my own soldiers would get fat and lazy!" Some of his hordebeats shot glares in his direction and began muttering to eachother about "Inconsistant leading" and "Bein' too merciful".  
  
Of course, Bortis could hear them, or really see them for that matter, but he continued to rant on about how he'd let them all go. And, within the hour, The once peaceful Abbey of Redwall had come under control of the Corsair Boris, first vermin creature ever to conquer the abbey.  
  
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Well, I know that the Abbeybeasts got conquered kinda easily, but around eighty seasons of no warfare or vermin sightings can do that to a beast, or rather, beasts.  
  
Keep the reviews flowin'!-Kickoutthejams


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